Chapter II: Part 2

Orpiment is a vein of the earth, or a manner of free stone that cleaveth and breaketh, and it is like to gold in colour: and this is called Arsenic by another name, and is double, red and citron. It hath kind of brimstone, of burning and drying. And if it be laid to brass, it maketh the brass white, and burneth and wasteth all bodies of metal, out take gold.

Though silver be white yet it maketh black lines and strakes in the body that is scored therewith. In composition thereof is quicksilver and white brimstone, and therefore it is not so heavy as gold. There are two manner of silvers, simple and compound. The simple is fleeting, and is called quicksilver; the silver compounded is massy and sad, and is compounded of quicksilver pure and clean, and of white brimstone, not burning, as Aristotle saith.

Quicksilver is a watery substance medlied strongly with subtle earthly things, and may not be dissolved: and that is for great dryness of earth that melteth not on a plain thing. Therefore it cleaveth not to thing that it toucheth, as doth the thing that is watery. The substance thereof is white: and that is for clearness of clear water, and for whiteness of subtle earth that is well digested. Also it hath whiteness of medlying of air with the aforesaid things. Also quicksilver hath the property that it curdeth not by itself kindly without brimstone: but with brimstone, and with substance of lead, it is congealed and fastened together. And therefore it is said, that quicksilver and brimstone is the element, that is to wit matter, of which all melting metal is made. Quicksilver is matter of all metal, and therefore in respect of them it is a simple element. Isidore saith it is fleeting, for it runneth and is specially found in silver forges as it were drops of silver molten. And it is oft found in old dirt of sinks, and in slime of pits. And also it is made of minium done in caverns of iron, and a patent or a shell done thereunder; and the vessel that is anointed therewith, shall be be-clipped with burning coals, and then the quicksilver shall drop. Without this silver nor gold nor latten nor copper may be overgilt. And it is of so great virtue and strength, that though thou do a stone of an hundred pound weight upon quicksilver of the weight of two pounds, the quicksilver anon withstandeth the weight. And if thou doest thereon a scruple of gold, it ravisheth unto itself the lightness thereof. And so it appeareth it is not weight, but nature to which it obeyeth. It is best kept in glass vessels, for it pierceth, boreth, and fretteth other matters.

If an adamant be set by iron, it suffereth not the iron to come to the magnet, but it draweth it by a manner of violence from the magnet, so that though the magnet draweth iron to itself, the adamant draweth it away from the magnet. It is called a precious stone of reconciliation and of love. For if a woman be away from her housebond, or trespasseth against him: by virtue of this stone, she is the sooner reconciled to have grace of her husband.

Crystal is a bright stone and clear, with watery colour. Men trowe that it is of snow or ice made hard in space of many years. This stone set in the sun taketh fire, insomuch if dry tow be put thereto, it setteth the tow on fire. That crystal materially is made of water, Gregory on Ezekiel i. saith: water, saith he, is of itself fleeting, but by strength of cold it is turned and made stedfast crystal. And hereof Aristotle telleth the cause in his Meteorics: there he saith that stony things of substance of ore are water in matter. Ricardus Rufus saith: stone ore is of water: but for it hath more of dryness of earth than things that melt, therefore they were not frozen only with coldness of water, but also by dryness of earth that is mingled therewith, when the watery part of the earth and glassy hath mastery on the water, and the aforesaid cold hath the victory and mastery. And so Saint Gregory his reason is true, that saith, that crystal may be gendered of water.

In old time or the use of iron was known, men eared land with brass, and fought therewith in war and battle. That time gold and silver were forsaken, and gold is now in the most worship, so age that passeth and vadeth changeth times of things. Brass and copper are made in this manner as other metals be, of brimstone and quicksilver, and that happeneth when there is more of brimstone than of quicksilver, and the brimstone is earthy and not pure, with red colour and burning, and quicksilver is mean and not subtle. Of such medlying brass is gendered.

Electrum is a metal and hath that name, for in the sunbeam it shineth more clear than gold or silver. And this metal is more noble than other metals. And hereof are three manners of kinds. The third manner is made of three parts of gold, and of the fourth of silver: and kind electrum is of that kind, for in twinkling and in light it shineth more clear than all other metal, and warneth of venom, for if one dip it therein, it maketh a great chinking noise, and changeth oft into divers colours as the rainbow, and that suddenly.

Heliotrope is a precious stone, and is green, and sprinkled with red drops, and veins of the colour of blood. If it be put in water before the sunbeams, it maketh the water seethe in the vessel that it is in, and resolveth it as it were into mist, and soon after it is resolved into rain-drops. Also it seemeth that this same stone may do wonders, for if it be put in a basin with clear water, it changeth the sunbeams by rebounding of the air, and seemeth to shadow them, and breedeth in the air red and sanguine colour, as though the sun were in eclypse and darkened. An herb of the same name, with certain enchantments, doth beguile the sight of men that look thereon, and maketh a man that beareth it not to be seen.

Though iron cometh of the earth, yet it is most hard and sad, and therefore with beating and smiting it suppresseth and dilateth all other metal, and maketh it stretch on length and on breadth. Iron is gendered of quicksilver thick and not clean, full of earthy holes, and of brimstone, great and boisterous and not pure. In composition of iron is more of the aforesaid brimstone than of quicksilver, and so for mastery of cold and dry and of earthy matter, iron is dry and cold and full well hard, and is compact together in its parts. And for iron hath less of airy and watery moisture than other metals: therefore it is hard to resolve and make it again to be nesh in fire. Use of iron is more needful to men in many things than use of gold: though covetous men love more gold than iron. Without iron the commonalty be not sure against enemies, without dread of iron the common right is not governed; with iron innocent men are defended: and fool-hardiness of wicked men is chastised with dread of iron. And well nigh no handiwork is wrought without iron: no field is eared without iron, neither tilling craft used, nor building builded without iron. And therefore Isidore saith that iron hath its name _ferrum_, for that thereby _farra_, that is corn and seed, is tilled and sown. For, without iron, bread is not won of the earth, nor bread is not departed when it is ready without iron convenably to man's use.

Of lead are two manner of kinds, white and black, and the white is the better, and was first found in the islands of the Atlantic Sea in old time, and is now found in many places. For in France and in Portugal is a manner of black earth found full of gravel and of small stones, and is washed and blown, and so of that matter cometh the substance of lead. Also in gold quarries with matter of gold are small stones found, and are gathered with the gold, and blown by themselves, and turn all to lead, and therefore gold is as heavy as lead. But of black lead is double kind. For black lead cometh alone of a vein, or is gendered of silver in medlied veins, and is blown, and in blowing first cometh tin, and then silver, and then what leaveth is blown and turneth into black lead. Aristotle saith that of brimstone that is boisterous and not swiftly pured, but troublous and thick, and of quicksilver, the substance of lead is gendered, and is gendered in mineral places; so of uncleanness of impure brimstone lead hath a manner of neshness, and smircheth his hand that toucheth it. And with wiping and cleansing, this uncleanness of lead may be taken away for a time, but never for always; a man may wipe off the uncleanness but alway it is lead although it seemeth silver. But strange qualities have mastery therein and beguile men, and make them err therein. Some men take Sal Ammoniac (to cleanse it) as Aristotle saith, and assigneth the cause of this uncleanness and saith, that in boisterous lead is evil quicksilver heavy and fenny. Also that brimstone thereof is evil vapour and stinking. Therefore it freezeth not well at full. Hermes saith that lead in boiling undoeth the hardness of all sad and hard bodies, and also of the stone adamant. Aristotle speaketh of lead in the Meteorics and saith that lead without doubt when it is molten is as quicksilver, but it melteth not without heat, and then all that is molten seemeth red. Wonder it is that though lead be pale or brown, yet by burning or by refudation of vinegar oft it gendereth seemly colour and fair, as tewly, red, and such other; therewith women paint themselves for to seem fair of colour.

The sapphire is a precious stone, and is blue in colour, most like to heaven in fair weather, and clear, and is best among precious stones, and most apt and able to fingers of kings. Its virtue is contrary to venom and quencheth it every deal. And if thou put an addercop in a box, and hold a very sapphire of Ind at the mouth of the box any while, by virtue thereof the addercop is overcome and dieth, as it were suddenly. And this same I have seen proved oft in many and divers places.

Tin in fire departeth metals of divers kind, and it departeth lead and brass from gold and silver, and defendeth other metals in hot fire. And though brass and iron be most hard in kind, yet if they be in strong fire without tin, they burn and waste away. If brazen vessels be tinned, the tin abateth the venom of rust, and amendeth the savour. Also mirrors be tempered with tin, and white colour that is called Ceruse is made of tin, as it is made of lead. Aristotle saith that tin is compounded of good quicksilver and of evil brimstone. And these twain be not well medlied but in small parts compounded, therefore tin hath colour of silver but not the sadness thereof. In the book of Alchemy Hermes saith, that tin breaketh all metals and bodies that it is medlied with, and that for the great dryness of tin. And destroyeth in metal the kind that is obedient to hammer work. And if thou medliest quicksilver therewith, it withstandeth the crassing thereof and maketh it white, but afterward it maketh it black and defileth it. Also there it is said that burnt tin gendereth red colour, as lead doth; and if the fire be strong, the first matter of tin cometh soon again. Also though tin be more nesh than silver, and more hard than lead, yet lead may not be soon soldered to lead nor to brass nor to iron without tin. Neither may these be soldered without grease or tallow.

Brimstone is a vein of the earth and hath much air and fire in its composition. Of brimstone there are four kinds. One is called _vivum_, the which when it is digged, shineth and flourisheth, the which only among all the kinds thereof physicians use. Avicenna means that brimstone is hot and dry in the fourth degree, and is turned into kind of brimstone in part of water, of earth, and of fire, and that brimstone is sometimes great and boisterous and full of drausts, and sometimes pure white, clear and subtle, and sometimes mean between both. And by this diverse disposition, divers metals are gendered of brimstone and of quicksilver.

Glass, as Avicen saith, is among stones as a fool among men, for it taketh all manner of colour and painting. Glass was first found beside Ptolomeida in the cliff beside the river that is called Vellus, that springeth out of the foot of Mount Carmel, at which shipmen arrived. For upon the gravel of that river shipmen made fire of clods medlied with bright gravel, and thereof ran streams of new liquor, that was the beginning of glass. It is so pliant that it taketh anon divers and contrary shapes by blast of the glazier, and is sometimes beaten, and sometimes graven as silver. And no matter is more apt to make mirrors than is glass, or to receive painting; and if it be broken it may not be amended without melting again. But long time past, there was one that made glass pliant, which might be amended and wrought with an hammer, and brought a vial made of such glass tofore Tiberius the Emperor, and threw it down on the ground, and it was not broken but bent and folded. And he made it right and amended it with an hammer. Then the emperor commanded to smite off his head anon, lest that his craft were known. For then gold should be no better than fen, and all other metal should be of little worth, for certain if glass vessels were not brittle, they should be accounted of more value than vessels of gold.

All the planets move by double moving; by their own kind moving out of the west into the east, against the moving of the firmament; and by other moving out of the east into the west, and that by ravishing of the firmament. By violence of the firmament they are ravished every day out of the east into the west. And by their kindly moving, by the which they labour to move against the firmament, some of them fulfil their course in shorter time, and some in longer time. And that is for their courses are some more and some less. For Saturn abideth in every sign xxx months, and full endeth its course in xxx years. Jupiter dwelleth in every sign one year, and full endeth its course in xii years. Mars abideth in every sign xlv days, and full endeth its course in two years. The sun abideth in every sign xxx days and ten hours and a half, and full endeth its course in ccclxv days and vi hours. Mercury abideth in every sign xxviii days and vi hours, and full endeth its course in cccxxxviii days. Venus abideth in every sign 29 days, and full endeth its course in 348 days. The moon abideth in every sign two days and a half, and six hours and one bisse less, and full endeth its course from point to point in 27 days and 8 hours. And by entering and out passing of these 7 stars into the 12 signs and out thereof everything that is bred and corrupt in this nether world is varied and disposed, and therefore in the philosopher's book Mesalath it is read in this manner: "The Highest made the world to the likeness of a sphere, and made the highest circle above it moveable in the earth, pight and stedfast in the middle thereof; not withdrawing toward the left side, nor toward the right side, and set the other elements moveable, and made them move by the moving of 7 planets, and all other stars help the planets in their working and kind." Every creature upon Earth hath a manner inclination by the moving of the planets, and destruction cometh by moving and working of planets. The working of them varieth and is diverse by diversity of climates and countries. For they work one manner of thing about the land of blue men, and another about the land and country of Slavens.... In the signs the planets move and abate with double moving, and move by accidental ravishing of the firmament out of the East into the West; and by kindly moving, the which is double, the first and the second. The first moving is the round moving that a planet maketh in its own circle, and passeth never the marks and bounds of the circle. The second moving is that he maketh under the Zodiac, and passeth alway like great space in a like space of time. And the first moving of a planet is made in its own circle that is called Eccentric, and it is called so for the earth is not the middle thereof, as it is the middle of the circle that is called Zodiac. Epicycle is a little circle that a planet describeth, and goeth about therein by the moving of its body, and the body of the planet goeth about the roundness thereof. And therefore it sheweth, that the sun and other planets move in their own circles; and first alike swift, though they move diversely in divers circles. Also in these circles the manner moving of planets is full wisely found of astronomers, that are called Direct, Stationary, and Retrograde Motion. Forthright moving is in the over part of the circle that is called Epicycle, backward is in the nether part, and stinting and abiding or hoving is in the middle.

II

MEDIAEVAL MANNERS

The sixth book of our author deals with the conditions of man, passing in review youth and age, male and female, serf and lord. Our extracts from it fall into three groups. The first deals in great measure with the relations of family life. We have an account of the boy and the girl (as they appeared to a friar "of orders grey"), the infant and its nurse. However we may suspect Bartholomew of wishing to provide a text in his account of the bad boy, it is consoling to find that the "enfant terrible" had his counterpart in the thirteenth century, as well as the maiden known to us all, who is "demure and soft of speech, but well ware of what she says."

The second group presents mediaeval society to us under the influence of chivalry. Suitably enough, we have beside each other most lifelike pictures of the base and superstructure of the system. This, the man-- free, generous; that, the serf--vile, ungrateful, kept in order by fear alone, but the necessary counterpart of the splendid figure of his master. One of our writers today has regretted the absence of a chapter in praise of the good man to set beside Solomon's picture of the virtuous woman. Bartholomew has certainly endeavoured in the two chapters quoted here, "Of a Man," and "Of a Good Lord," to picture the ideal good man of chivalrous times. It may, however, be permitted those of us who look at the system from underneath, to sympathise with our fellows who struggled to free themselves from bondage under Tyler and John Ball at least as much as with their splendid oppressors, and to recognise that the feudal system, however necessary in the thirteenth century, lost its value when its lords had ceased to be such good lords as our author describes.

The third group would naturally consist of passages illustrating the daily life of our ancestors, but the editor has found some difficulty in getting together passages enough for the purpose without trenching on the confines of other chapters. He has accordingly left them scattered over the book, persuaded that the reader will feel their import better when they are seen in their context. Such a book as this is not open to the objections urged against pictures of mediaeval life drawn from romances, that the situations are invented and the manners suited to the situation. Here all is true, and written with no other aim than that of utilising knowledge common to all. Everywhere through these extracts little statements--a few words in most cases--crop up giving us information of this kind; but it would be impossible to do more than allude to them. Leaving our reader to notice them as they are met with, the description of a mediaeval dinner concludes the chapter. The chapter describing a supper which follows it in the original is too long for quotation, and is vitiated by a desire to draw analogies. But one feature is noteworthy: Among the properties of a good supper, "the ninth is plenty of light of candles, and of prickets, and of torches. For it is shame to sup in darkness, and perillous also for flies and other filth. Therefore candles and prickets are set on candlesticks and chandeliers, lanterns and lamps are necessary to burn." This little touch gives us the reverse of the picture, and reminds us of the Knight of the Tower's caution to his daughters about their behaviour at a feast.

SUCH children be nesh of flesh, lithe and pliant of body, able and light to moving, witty to learn. And lead their lives without thought and care. And set their courages only of mirth and liking, and dread no perils more than beating with a rod: and they love an apple more than gold. When they be praised, or shamed, or blamed, they set little thereby. Through stirring and moving of the heat of the flesh and of humours, they be lightly and soon wroth, and soon pleased, and lightly they forgive. And for tenderness of body they be soon hurt and grieved, and may not well endure hard travail. Since all children be tatched with evil manners, and think only on things that be, and reck not of things that shall be, they love plays, game, and vanity, and forsake winning and profit. And things most worthy they repute least worthy, and least worthy most worthy. They desire things that be to them contrary and grievous, and set more of the image of a child, than of the image of a man, and make more sorrow and woe, and weep more for the loss of an apple, than for the loss of their heritage. And the goodness that is done for them, they let it pass out of mind. They desire all things that they see, and pray and ask with voice and with hand. They love talking and counsel of such children as they be, and void company of old men. They keep no counsel, but they tell all that they hear or see. Suddenly they laugh, and suddenly they weep. Always they cry, jangle, and jape; that unneth they be still while they sleep. When they be washed of filth, anon they defile themselves again. When their mother washeth and combeth them, they kick and sprawl, and put with feet and with hands, and withstand with all their might. They desire to drink always, unneth they are out of bed, when they cry for meat anon.

Men behove to take heed of maidens: for they be tender of complexion; small, pliant and fair of disposition of body: shamefast, fearful, and merry. Touching outward disposition they be well nurtured, demure and soft of speech, and well ware of what they say: and delicate in their apparel. And for a woman is more meeker than a man, she weepeth sooner. And is more envious, and more laughing, and loving, and the malice of the soul is more in a woman than in a man. And she is of feeble kind, and she maketh more lesings, and is more shamefast, and more slow in working and in moving than is a man.

A nurse hath that name of nourishing, for she is ordained to nourish and to feed the child, and therefore like as the mother, the nurse is glad if the child be glad, and heavy, if the child be sorry, and taketh the child up if it fall, and giveth it suck: if it weep she kisseth and lulleth it still, and gathereth the limbs, and bindeth them together, and doth cleanse and wash it when it is defiled. And for it cannot speak, the nurse lispeth and soundeth the same words to teach more easily the child that cannot speak. And she useth medicines to bring the child to convenable estate if it be sick, and lifteth it up now on her shoulders, now on her hands, now on her knees and lap, and lifteth it up if it cry or weep. And she cheweth meat in her mouth, and maketh it ready to the toothless child, that it may the easilier swallow that meat, and so she feedeth the child when it is an hungered, and pleaseth the child with whispering and songs when it shall sleep, and swatheth it in sweet clothes, and righteth and stretcheth out its other. A man hath so great love to his wife that for her sake he adventureth himself to all perils; and setteth her love afore his mother's love; for he dwelleth with his wife, and forsaketh father and mother. Afore wedding, the spouse thinketh to win love of her that he wooeth with gifts, and certifieth of his will with letters and messengers, and with divers presents, and giveth many gifts, and much good and cattle, and promiseth much more. And to please her he putteth him to divers plays and games among gatherings of men, and useth oft deeds of arms, of might, and of mastery. And maketh him gay and seemly in divers clothing and array. And all that he is prayed to give and to do for her love, he giveth and doth anon with all his might. And denieth no petition that is made in her name and for her love. He speaketh to her pleasantly, and beholdeth her cheer in the face with pleasing and glad cheer, and with a sharp eye, and at last assenteth to her, and telleth openly his will in presence of her friends, and spouseth her with a ring, and giveth her gifts in token of contract of wedding, and maketh her charters, and deeds of grants and of gifts. He maketh revels and feasts and spousals, and giveth many good gifts to friends and guests, and comforteth and gladdeth his guests with songs and pipes and other minstrelsy of music. And afterward, when all this is done, he bringeth her to the privities of his chamber, and maketh her fellow at bed and at board. And then he maketh her lady of his money, and of his house, and meinie. And then he is no less diligent and careful for her than he is for himself: and specially lovingly he adviseth her if she do amiss, and taketh good heed to keep her well, and taketh heed of her bearing and going, of her speaking and looking, of her passing and ayencoming, out and home. No man hath more wealth, than he that hath a good woman to his wife, and no man hath more woe, than he that hath an evil wife, crying and jangling, chiding and scolding, drunken, lecherous, and unsteadfast, and contrary to him, costly, stout and gay, envious, noyful, leaping over lands, much suspicious, and wrathful. In a good spouse and wife behoveth these conditions, that she be busy and devout in God's service, meek and serviceable to her husband, and fair- speaking and goodly to her meinie, merciful and good to wretches that be needy, easy and peaceable to her neighbours, ready, wary, and wise in things that should be avoided, mightiful and patient in suffering, busy and diligent in her doing, mannerly in clothing, sober in moving, wary in speaking, chaste in looking, honest in bearing, sad in going, shamefast among the people, merry and glad with her husband, and chaste in privity. Such a wife is worthy to be praised, that entendeth more to please her husband with such womanly dues, than with her braided hairs, and desireth more to please him with virtues than with fair and gay clothes, and useth the goodness of matrimony more because of children than of fleshly liking, and hath more liking to have children of grace than of kind.

A man loveth his child and feedeth and nourisheth it, and setteth it at his own board when it is weaned. And teacheth him in his youth with speech and words, and chasteneth him with beating, and setteth him and putteth him to learn under ward and keeping of wardens and tutors. And the father sheweth him no glad cheer, lest he wax proud, and he loveth most the son that is like to him, and looketh oft on him. And giveth to his children clothing, meat and drink as their age requireth, and purchaseth lands and heritage for his children, and ceaseth not to make it more and more. And entaileth his purchase, and leaveth it to his heirs.... The child cometh of the substance of father and mother, and taketh of them feeding and nourishing, and profiteth not, neither liveth, without help of them. The more the father loveth his child, the more busily he teacheth and chastiseth him and holdeth him the more strait under chastising and lore; and when the child is most loved of the father it seemeth that he loveth him not; for he beateth and grieveth him oft lest he draw to evil manners and tatches, and the more the child is like to the father, the better the father loveth him. The father is ashamed if he hear any foul thing told by his children. The father's heart is sore grieved, if his children rebel against him. In feeding and nourishing of their children stands the most business and charge of the parents.

Some servants be bond and born in bondage, and such have many pains by law. For they may not sell nor give away their own good and cattle, nother make contracts, nother take office of dignity, nother bear witness without leave of their lords. Wherefore though they be not in childhood, they be oft punished with pains of childhood. Other servants there be, the which being taken with strangers and aliens and with enemies be bought and sold, and held low under the yoke of thraldom. The third manner of servants be bound freely by their own good will, and serve for reward and for hire. And these commonly be called Famuli.

The name lord is a name of sovereignty, of power, and of might. For without a lord might not the common profit stand secure, neither the company of men might be peaceable and quiet. For if power and might of rightful lords were withholden and taken away, then were malice free, and goodness and innocence never secure, as saith Isidore. A rightful lord, by way of rightful law, heareth and determineth causes, pleas, and strifes, that be between his subjects, and ordaineth that every man have his own, and draweth his sword against malice, and putteth forth his shield of righteousness, to defend innocents against evil doers, and delivereth small children and such as be fatherless, and motherless, and widows, of them that overset them. And he pursueth robbers and rievers, thieves, and other evil doers. And useth his power not after his own will, but he ordaineth and disposeth it as the law asketh.... By reason of one good king and one good lord, all a country is worshipped, and dreaded, and enhanced also. Also this name lord is a name of peace and surety. For a good lord ceaseth war, battle, and fighting; and accordeth them that be in strife. And so under a good, a strong, and a peaceable lord, men of the country be secure and safe. For there dare no man assail his lordship, ne in no manner break his peace.

Meat and drink be ordained and convenient to dinners and to feasts, for at feasts first meat is prepared and arrayed, guests be called together, forms and stools be set in the hall, and tables, cloths, and towels be ordained, disposed, and made ready. Guests be set with the lord in the chief place of the board, and they sit not down at the board before the guests wash their hands. Children be set in their place, and servants at a table by themselves. First knives, spoons, and salts be set on the board, and then bread and drink, and many divers messes; household servants busily help each other to do everything diligently, and talk merrily together. The guests be gladded with lutes and harps. Now wine and now messes of meat be brought forth and departed. At the last cometh fruit and spices, and when they have eaten, board, cloths, and relief are borne away, and guests wash and wipe their hands again. Then grace is said, and guests thank the lord. Then for gladness and comfort drink is brought yet again. When all this is done at meat, men take their leave, and some go to bed and sleep, and some go home to their own lodgings.

III

MEDIAEVAL MEDICINE

The seventh book of the "De Proprietatibus" treats of the human body and its ailments. At first glance it might seem that such a subject would be repulsive, either in matter or handling, to the general reader of today, but it will, we think, be found that there are many points of interest in it for us, some of which we proceed to indicate. Mankind has always felt a deep interest in certain diseases, to which we are even now subject, and so parts of the chapters on leprosy and hydrophobia have been reproduced. The accounts given of frenzy and madness interest us both as a picture of the change in manners, as an example of the methods of cure proposed, and as throwing light on many passages. Thus Chaucer, speaking of Arcite, describes his passion as compounded of melancholy which deprives him of reason, overflowing into the foremost cell of his brain, the cell fantastic, and causing him to act as if mad.

"Nought oonly lyke the loveres maladye
Of Hereos, but rather lyk manye,
Engendered of humour malencolyk
Byforen in his selle fantastyk."
K. T., 515, etc.

Physicians recommend music as a cure in mental troubles, but that it is no new discovery is attested by Shakespeare and our author. Compare what Bartholomew says of the voice, with Richard's speech:

"This music mads me, let it sound no more,
For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
In me it seems it will make wise men mad."

The origin of the brutality towards madmen warred against by Charles Reade, and described in "Romeo and Juliet"--

"Not mad, but bound more than a madman is,
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented"--

is seen in our extracts, which recall, too, in their insistence on bleeding the "head vein," Juvenal's remark on his friend about to marry: "O medici, mediam pertundite venam."

Some space has already been devoted (p. 28) to the physiology of the human body, but this chapter would not be complete if we did not devote some space to the explanations given of the working of the heart, veins, and arteries, at a time when the circulation of the blood was unknown. It may not be amiss to remind the reader that arteries carry blood from the heart, to which it is returned by the veins, after passing through a fine network of tubes called the capillaries.

Turning to what may be called the popular physiology of the time, we may note the change, since mediaeval times, in the allocation of properties to the organs of the body. In our days, the heart and brain set aside, we find no organ mentioned in connection with the various faculties of the body, while up to Shakespeare's time each organ had its passion. Some of these emotions have much changed their seats. True love, which now reigns over the heart, then took its rise in the liver. The friar in "Much Ado about Nothing" says of Claudio, "If ever love had interest in his liver"; and the Duke in "Twelfth Night," speaking of women's love, says:

"Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
No motion of the liver, but the palate."

The heart, on the other hand, was considered as the seat of wisdom.

The spleen is now almost a synonym for bitterness of spirit, but it used to be regarded as the source of laughter. Isabella in "Measure for Measure," after the well-known quotation about man dressed in a little brief authority who plays such apish tricks as make the angels weep, says they would laugh instead if they had spleens:

"Who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal."

The brain in mediaeval times was regarded only as the home of the "wits of feeling"--the senses.

Some other points of interest in mediaeval medicine are the strange remedies prescribed, and the way in which they were hit upon. The Editor has not made many selections to illustrate this, nor has he sought out the most strange. And lastly, in this, as in most of the other chapters, much may be learnt of the customs of the time from the indications of the text.

These be the signs of frenzy, woodness and continual waking, moving and casting about the eyes, raging, stretching, and casting out of hands, moving and wagging of the head, grinding and gnashing together of the teeth; always they will arise out of their bed, now they sing, now they weep, and they bite gladly and rend their keeper and their leech: seldom be they still, but cry much. And these be most perilously sick, and yet they wot not then that they be sick. Then they must be soon holpen lest they perish, and that both in diet and in medicine. The diet shall be full scarce, as crumbs of bread, which must many times be wet in water. The medicine is, that in the beginning the patient's head be shaven, and washed in lukewarm vinegar, and that he be well kept or bound in a dark place. Diverse shapes of faces and semblance of painting shall not be shewed tofore him, lest he be tarred with woodness. All that be about him shall be commanded to be still and in silence; men shall not answer to his nice words. In the beginning of medicine he shall be let blood in a vein of the forehead, and bled as much as will fill an egg-shell. Afore all things (if virtue and age suffereth) he shall bleed in the head vein. Over all things, with ointments and balming men shall labour to bring him asleep. The head that is shaven shall be plastered with lungs of a swine, or of a wether, or of a sheep; the temples and forehead shall be anointed with the juice of lettuce, or of poppy. If after these medicines are laid thus to, the woodness dureth three days without sleep, there is no hope of recovery.

Madness is infection of the foremost cell of the head, with privation of imagination, like as melancholy is the infection of the middle cell of the head, with privation of reason.

Madness cometh sometime of passions of the soul, as of business and of great thoughts, of sorrow and of too great study, and of dread: sometime of the biting of a wood hound, or some other venomous beast: sometime of melancholy meats, and sometime of drink of strong wine. And as the causes be diverse, the tokens and signs be diverse. For some cry and leap and hurt and wound themselves and other men, and darken and hide themselves in privy and secret places. The medicine of them is, that they be bound, that they hurt not themselves and other men. And namely, such shall be refreshed, and comforted, and withdrawn from cause and matter of dread and busy thoughts. And they must be gladded with instruments of music, and somedeal be occupied.

Our Lord set a token in Cain, that was quaking of head, as Strabus saith in the gloss: "Every man (saith Strabus) that findeth me, by quaking of head and moving of wood heart, shall know that I am guilty to die."

Among all the passions and evils of the wits of feeling, blindness is most wretched. For without any bond, blindness is a prison to the blind. And blindness beguileth the virtue imaginative in knowing; for in deeming of white the blind deem it is black, and ayenward. It letteth the virtue of avisement in deeming. For he deemeth and aviseth, and casteth to go eastward, and is beguiled in his doom, and goeth westward. And blindness over-turneth the virtue of affection and desire. For if men proffer the blind a silver penny and a copper to choose the better, he desireth to choose the silver penny, but he chooseth the copper.

The blind man's wretchedness is so much, that it maketh him not only subject to a child, or to a servant, for ruling and leading, but also to an hound. And the blind is oft brought to so great need, that to pass and scape the peril of a bridge or of a ford, he is compelled to trust in a hound more than to himself. Also oft in perils where all men doubt and dread, the blind man, for he seeth no peril, is secure. And in like wise there as is no peril, the blind dreadeth most. He spurneth oft in plain way, and stumbleth oft; there he should heave up his foot, he boweth it downward. And in like wise there as he should set his foot to the ground, he heaveth it upward. He putteth forth the hand all about groping and grasping, he seeketh all about his way with his hand and with his staff. Seldom he doth aught securely, well nigh always he doubteth and dreadeth. Also the blind man when he lieth or sitteth thereout, he weeneth that he is under covert; and ofttimes he thinketh himself hid when everybody seeth him.

Also sometimes the blind beateth and smiteth and grieveth the child that leadeth him, and shall soon repent the beating by doing of the child. For the child hath mind of the beating, and forsaketh him, and leaveth him alone in the middle of a bridge, or in some other peril, and teacheth him not the way to void the peril. Therefore the blind is wretched, for in house he dare nothing trustly do, and in the way he dreadeth lest his fellow will forsake him.

Universally this evil [leprosy] hath much tokens and signs. In them the flesh is notably corrupt, the shape is changed, the eyen become round, the eyelids are revelled, the sight sparkleth, the nostrils are straited and revelled and shrunk. The voice is hoarse, swelling groweth in the body, and many small botches and whelks hard and round, in the legs and in the utter parts; feeling is somedeal taken away. The nails are boystous and bunchy, the fingers shrink and crook, the breath is corrupt, and oft whole men are infected with the stench thereof. The flesh and skin is fatty, insomuch that they may throw water thereon, and it is not the more wet, but the water slides off, as it were off a wet hide. Also in the body be diverse specks, now red, now black, now wan, now pale. The tokens of leprosy be most seen in the utter parts, as in the feet, legs, and face; and namely in wasting and minishing of the brawns of the body.

To heal or to hide leprosy, best is a red adder with a white womb, if the venom be away, and the tail and the head smitten off, and the body sod with leeks, if it be oft taken and eaten. And this medicine helpeth in many evils; as appeareth by the blind man, to whom his wife gave an adder with garlick instead of an eel, that it might slay him, and he ate it, and after that by much sweat, he recovered his sight again.

The biting of a wood hound is deadly and venomous. And such venom is perilous. For it is long hidden and unknown, and increaseth and multiplieth itself, and is sometimes unknown to the year's end, and then the same day and hour of the biting, it cometh to the head, and breedeth frenzy. They that are bitten of a wood hound have in their sleep dreadful sights, and are fearful, astonied, and wroth without cause. And they dread to be seen of other men, and bark as hounds, and they dread water most of all things, and are afeared thereof full sore, and squeamous also. Against the biting of a wood hound wise men and ready used to make the wounds bleed with fire or with iron, that the venom may come out with blood, that cometh out of the wound.

Then consider thou shortly hereof, that a physician visiteth oft the houses and countries of sick men. And seeketh and searcheth the causes and circumstances of the sicknesses, and arrayeth and bringeth with him divers and contrary medicines. And he refuseth not to grope and handle, and to wipe and cleanse wounds of sick men. And he behooteth to all men hope and trust of recovering of health; and saith that he will softly burn that which shall be burnt, and cut that which shall be cut. And lest the whole part should corrupt, he spareth not to burn and to cut off the part that is rotted, and if a part in the right side acheth, he spareth not to smite in the left side. A good leech leaveth not cutting or burning for weeping of the patient. And he hideth and covereth the bitterness of the medicine with some manner of sweetness. He drinketh and tasteth of the medicine, though it be bitter: that it be not against the sick man's heart, and refraineth the sick man of meat and drink; and letteth him have his own will, of the whose health is neither hope nor trust of recovering.

The veins have that name for that they be the ways, conduits, and streams of the fleeting of the blood, and sheddeth it into all the body. And Constantine saith, that the veins spring out of the liver, as the arteries and wosen do out of the heart, and the sinews out of the brain. And veins are needful as vessels of the blood to bear and to bring blood from the liver, to feed and nourish the members of the body. Also needly, the veins are more tender and nesh in kind than sinews. Therefore that they be nigh to the liver may somewhat change the blood that cometh to them. And all the veins are made of one curtel, and not of two, as the arteries and wosen. For the arteries receive spirits, and they keep and save them. And the veins coming out of the liver, suck thereof, as it were of their own mother, feeding of blood, and dealeth and departeth that feeding to every member as it needeth. And so the veins spread into all the parts of the body, and by a wonder wit of kind, they do service each to other.

Also among other veins open and privy, there is a vein, and it is called Artery, which is needful in kind to bear and bring kindly heat from the heart to all the other members. And these arteries are made and composed of two small clothings or skins, called curtels, and they be like in shape, and divers in substance. The inner have wrinkles and folding overthwart, and their substance is hard, and more boystous than the utter be. And without they have wrinkles and folding in length: of whom the substance is hard for needfulness of moving, opening, and closing. For by opening, itself doth receive from the heart and that by the wrinklings and folding in length; by closing, itself doth put out superfluous fumosity, which is done by wrinkling and folding the curtels overthwart and in breadth, in the which the spirit is drawn from the heart. Wherefore they be harder without than all the other veins, and that is needful lest they break lightly and soon. Also these veins spring out of the left hollowness of the heart. And twain of that side are called Pulsative, of which one that is the innermost hath a nesh skin, and this vein is needful to bring great quantity of blood and spirits to the lungs, and to receive in air, and to medley it with blood, to temper the ferventness of the blood. This vein entereth into the lungs and is departed there in many manner wises.

The other artery is more than the first, and Aristotle calleth it Horren; this artery cometh up from the heart, and is departed in twain, and the one part cometh upward, and carrieth blood, that is purified and spirit of life to the brain; that so the spirit of feeling may be bred, nourished, kept, and saved. The other part goeth downward, and is departed in many manner wise toward the right side and toward the left.

Then mark well, that a vein is the bearer and carrier of blood, keeper and warden of the life of beasts. And containeth in itself the four bloody humours clean and pure, which are ordained for feeding of all the parts of the body. Moreover, a vein is hollow to receive blood the more easily, and as it needeth in kind, that one vein bring and give blood to another vein. Also a vein is messager of health and of sickness. For by the pulse of the arteries and disposition of the veins, physicians deem of the feebleness and strength of the heart. Also if a vein be corrupt, and containeth corrupt blood, it corrupteth and infecteth all the body, as it fareth in lepers, whose blood is most corrupt in the veins, of the which the members are fed by sucking of blood, and seeketh thereby corruption and sickness incurable. Also the vein of the arm is oft grieved, constrained and wranged, opened and slit, and wounded, to relieve the sickness of all the body by hurting of that vein.

The spittle of a man fasting hath a manner strength of privy infection. For it grieveth and hurteth the blood of a beast, if it come into a bleeding wound, and is medlied with the blood. And that, peradventure, is, as saith Avicenna, by reason of rawness. For raw humour medlied with blood that hath perfect digestion, is contrary thereto in its quality, and disturbeth the temperance thereof, as authors say. And therefore it is that holy men tell that the spittle of a fasting man slayeth serpents and adders, and is venom to venomous beasts, as saith Basil.

A discording voice and an inordinate troubleth the accord of many voices. But according voices sweet and ordinate, gladden and move to love, and show out the passions of the soul, and witness the strength and virtue of the spiritual members, and show pureness and good disposition of them, and relieve travail, and put off disease and sorrow. And make to be known the male and the female, and get and win praising, and change the affection of the hearers; as it is said in fables of one Orpheus, that pleased trees, woods, hills, and stones, with sweet melody of his voice. Also a fair voice is according and friendly to kind. And pleaseth not only men but also brute beasts, as it fareth in oxen that are excited to travail more by sweet song of the herd, than by strokes and pricks.

Also by sweet songs of harmony and accord or music, sick men and frantic come oft to their wit again and health of body. Some men tell that Orpheus said, "Emperors pray me to feasts, to have liking of me; but I have liking of them which would bend their hearts from wrath to mildness, from sorrow to gladness, from covetousness to largeness, from dread to boldness." This is the ordinance of music, that is known above the sweetness of the soul.